


lend me your warmth, keep the cold at bay

by twilighteve



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Ryan Bergara, Ryan-centric, Spirits, Written as platonic but can be seen as romantic, ryan sees dead people, shane repels ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilighteve/pseuds/twilighteve
Summary: He couldn’t always see them. Sometimes they didn’t want to be seen and somehow just stayed invisible, and all he could see were flitting images at the corner of his vision that he couldn’t entirely be sure to be real. Sometimes they were no more than the soft giggles buried under whistling wind, faint bumps and creaks passed as the house settling, creeping goosebumps that spread all over one’s body when there wasn’t even a hint of frost around. But he could feel them, the cold that seeped down into his bones that left his fingers and toes numb and the hair at the back of his neck stand. He knew the cold so well, with it clinging to his skin and refusing to let go.Or; Ryan’s been cold practically all his life, but Shane is warm.





	lend me your warmth, keep the cold at bay

 There were a lot of things Ryan Bergara knew, without a shred of doubt, to be true. Rainbows appeared because of refraction of light. The ocean was deeper than he could ever imagine and contained things he couldn’t even begin to think about. Ghosts were real.

It was kind of hard to say they weren’t when he could see them, after all.

They appeared like wisps of smoke given shape as a person. Sometimes they looked like thick fog, rolling with ethereal glow that was more eerie than anything. Sometimes they were no more than gossamer threads stretched thin until they were nearly impossible to be seen. Sometimes the wisps weren’t there altogether but instead they looked as real as any living person – except only Ryan could see them, and sometimes he couldn’t even tell if they were living or dead until someone walked through them. But they were there, and Ryan could see them. He could hear them, and speak to them. Most of the time they spoke back. He could touch them, and they could touch him back.

He could never hurt them, but they could hurt him as badly as they wanted to.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. What were the chances of the guy able to see ghosts being scared shitless of them?

He couldn’t always see them, though. Sometimes they didn’t want to be seen and somehow just stayed invisible, and all he could see were flitting images at the corner of his vision that he couldn’t entirely be sure to be real. Sometimes they were no more than the soft giggles buried under whistling wind, faint bumps and creaks passed as the house settling, creeping goosebumps that spread all over one’s body when there wasn’t even a hint of frost around. But he could _feel_ them, the cold that seeped down into his bones that left his fingers and toes numb and the hair at the back of his neck stand. He had always been able to feel them, since he was a little kid. He knew the cold so well, with it clinging to his skin and refusing to let go. The visuals came later though, after the bricks.

He was a firm believer of these things most people called a bogus, and honestly, he was getting tired of being pointed at as ‘the crazy guy who believed in ghosts’. So, when he got the chance to maybe find proof of the ghosts’ existence, he jumped at it and rushed headlong into it. Sure he still didn’t like ghosts and the places he went to looked about ready to cave in right above his head, but he could handle it.

Besides, the skeptics he was paired with were literally blessings sent from above.

This was a trend that Ryan had become familiar with through the years. Skeptics tend to drive away ghosts, and believers tend to attract them. Ryan was unfortunate in that he attracted ghosts like a beacon of light attracting insects, but he knew a lot of skeptics, and he made sure to be around them whenever possible. Having skeptics co-hosting with him was a good thing, because they basically became his personal ghost repellant. He had to admit it made it harder to get evidence, but the fact that he was in a place crawling with ghosts and not one of them so much as poked him in the arm was a great respite.

Brent was great in how ghosts would come to him with curiosity in their eyes, stopped about three feet away from him with wrinkled nose, and immediately turned and floated away. Ryan was disappointed when he decided to leave the show, but he wouldn’t want to force him to stay. Still, not many people could drive away ghosts like Brent could. Most of the time they just hung back, but not actually go away.

But then Shane came along, and holy shit. _Holy shit_. All he had to do was stand in the middle of the room and ghosts would immediately clear off – well, not all of them, but most would clear off. It was absurd. Ryan was tempted to ask him what sort of food his mom was eating when she was pregnant with him that some sort of weird spirit repellant gene got wired into him, but that was kind of a tad too weird to ask about.

Still, it came in handy. Shane’s presence staved off the constant, nearly overbearing feeling of being watched and the chills that ran up and down his spine. Not to mention the fact that the guy was genuinely fun to be around. Ryan found that he couldn’t imagine what Unsolved would be like without Shane. He would probably ditch the show if anything ever happened to the taller man, never mind the fact that Unsolved was pretty much his baby. And it definitely didn’t hurt that the guy poked fun at him for believing in ghosts but not actually insult him for it.

“You know they aren’t real, right?” Shane asked one day with mirth in his eyes but no hint of malice whatsoever in his person. “You’re probably just hearing the wind or something, and since you’re already scared your mind kind of just jumps to the ghost explanation.”

Ryan shrugged. “I know they’re real,” he insisted while ignoring the particularly curious ghost child that had gotten near Shane instead of bolting away like the others. “I just need to find proof.”

“Suit yourself, I guess,” Shane mirrored his shrug and sipped his coffee. The ghost poked him in the arm. He absently rubbed at it and went with his day as usual while the ghost decided to hang around Ryan. The shorter man fiddled with his jacket for a bit before zipping it close and focusing on editing another Postmortem while inwardly cursing Shane for doing all his stupid, nonsensical Hotdaga bit. The coldness never left until just before he was going home, when Shane casually patted his shoulder to say goodbye and they went their separate ways.

Ryan didn’t miss the way the warmth clung to his skin and repelled the usual cold that nibbled his fingertips even though the spirits were still around.

“Well,” he announced to his apartment. He paused, thought of what he wanted to say, and settled with a soft, sighed “ _well_.”

* * *

Another Supernatural season rolled around, and the boys packed their bags to get to the haunted location of the episode.

Despite the fear Ryan always displayed in the Supernatural episodes, the actual places they visited weren’t usually that bad. Most of it was just editing the hours of footage into twenty to thirty minutes episodes (which, honestly, was quite the feat) and playing up the drama for the viewers. It was rare for things to actually be that bad. Sally House _was_ actually that bad, though.

This place, unfortunately, was one of few that actually joined the Viciously Haunted Location Which Really Should Just Be Boarded Off For People’s Safety club. Instead it was opened for public in the form of tourist attraction, and Ryan lowkey just wanted to run away screaming.

A distant scream that Ryan instinctually knew to be _somewhere else_ in origin reached his ears and the constant chill on Ryan’s skin intensified into midwinter river rush that left him numb. Alright, correction; Ryan highkey just wanted to run away screaming.

A hand landed on his shoulder and stayed there firmly even though Ryan jumped maybe about a feet into the air. When he turned, Shane was frowning at him, worry etched into his features.

“You okay in there?” the taller man asked, keeping his hand on Ryan’s shoulder as if trying to anchor him to the world of the living.

“I’m managing,” Ryan admitted.

“You know you can bail out whenever if you’re not comfortable with this, right?” Shane’s frown deepened. “You don’t need to push yourself just for views.”

Ryan couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up his throat. “I’m not doing this just for the views, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I still want to get the evidence that ghosts are real.”

Shane just blinked at him once and nodded, hand squeezing his shoulder once before letting go. Immediately, Ryan realized that the midwinter rush had dulled into chilly autumn wind. The spirits haunting this place must be strong, if even Shane’s unusual ghost-repelling vibe couldn’t get rid of the cold nibbling Ryan’s skin. He took a deep breath and flexed his numb fingers.

“You know, I make it my personal mission to make sure that by the time this show is through you will no longer fear the wind,” Shane announced as he calmly observed the doorway leading to the living room. “I still want to see if ghosts are actually real, but if they aren’t, I don’t want you to be scared of something that’s not real. I don’t really want you to stay scared of them even if they’re real, either.” He turned to Ryan and grinned. “Who knows, maybe _you_ will be the one changing your mind and by the end of this you’ll be a skeptic, too!”

Ryan wheezed a laugh, noting the presence of a woman in pink dress peering at them curiously and ignoring her. “Not a chance,” he declared. “Once a believer, always a believer. Just you wait, I’m going to get a definitive proof that ghosts exist.”

Shane put up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, whatever you say,” he half-sang. “Come on, let’s do the intro quick and start exploring the house.”

After a quick work to set up the cameras, they were ready to start filming. Ryan put on his best smile and ignored the sudden hike in the chill. The lady in pink zeroed in on him. He did his best to ignore her as he recited the usual spiel for the episode’s opening. He recited the history of the house – built over a century ago, said to have attracted spectral activities well before it was even finished being built for being a ‘cursed land on which nothing could thrive’, workers died and none of their bodies could be recovered due to being buried in cement and thus were still there far beneath the floorboards, several sightings, Satanists rituals, the usual. All the while Shane kept making the slightly disapproving face he made every time he wanted to tell Ryan, “you’re being dumb but you believe this with every cell of your tiny being, so I’m gonna make this face to tell you that you’re being dumb without outright insulting you”.

“…and because this location is so renowned for having spirits being annoying whenever an idiot tries to stay the night here,” Ryan paused to take a deep breath and sighed, “we’re gonna take one for the team and be the pair of idiots to stay the night.”

“Yeah, how do you feel about that, Ryan?” Shane asked, lips quirking up.

“I’m – I’ll be completely honest with you guys here, I feel like my mind’s going to melt,” Ryan answered, though it wasn’t the exact truth. He didn’t feel like his mind was melting. It was like it was freezing, slowly but surely, with the chill that grew around him. The lady in pink was still staring. The cold that gnawed on his fingertips felt almost painful. He stopped himself from reaching to Shane to stave off the cold – it would be embarrassing, not to mention he had no intention to further fuel the frenzy the internet had over shipping them together.

“Really? I think it’s going to be real fun,” Shane quipped with a toothy smile.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. At this point someone could probably point a gun at you and you’ll just laugh.”

“That’s not true. I fear real life people and guns way more than I fear nonexistent ghosts.”

The cold spiked for a moment before receding. The lady in pink glared at Shane. Ryan just threw him an unimpressed look while shaking his head in disapproval.

“Anyway, yeah, we’re gonna stay the night and it’s gonna be awesome,” Shane concluded with a wide grin. Ryan considered kicking him in the mouth.

The filming for the episode went just like usual. Get in rooms, chat and banter a bit, do an EVP session and spirit box session (grin a shit-eating grin at Shane’s obvious distaste at it), so on and so forth. The lady in pink was a persistent spirit, but she stayed at the living room where they filmed the opening scene – she waved them off when they left, and if Ryan wasn’t scared of the possibility of her hurting him one way or another and looking like a weirdo in front of camera, he might have waved back. Other spirits were less persistent and cleared away when they felt Shane entering the room, looking at Ryan in interest but choosing to leave in order to get away from Shane’s ghost-repelling radius, resulting in the usual lackluster EVP and spirit box sessions.

Until the basement. Why was it always the basement? Either the basement or the attic – take your pick.

The Unsolved team had just walked down the stairs to the basement when Ryan heard a soft but unmistakable thump. He frowned and turned to Shane, who walked behind him, asking, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” the taller man asked back.

“I heard something,” Ryan explained. “A thump… I think.” He peered down the stairs and choked back on a scream.

In the basement were six ghosts, with unusually vivid spectral bodies that nearly seemed real if not for the bluish hue their skin showed. One of them had a trowel lodged firmly on his neck, and trails of blood streamed down his collarbone. The coldness in the basement was extreme and reminded Ryan of a giant freezer in restaurants, and despite the jacket he wore he felt it seeping right into his bones. He considered turning around and running back up.

The ghost with the trowel looked straight at him, and Ryan stiffened before looking away. Too late. The ghost already knew he could see him.

Shane poked him lightly on the shoulder and Ryan started. He continued his descent to the basement floor, keeping the ghosts in sight but not looking at them directly. The ghosts took a look at Shane, and five of them drifted away. The one with the trowel in his neck stayed behind, simply staring at both Shane and Ryan.

“Oof, this place is _cold_ ,” Shane commented while rubbing his hands together, despite the fact that the temperature had risen slightly since five of the ghosts went away. “Why are basements always so cold?”

Ryan shrugged to cover his uneasiness. He looked around the room, casting his torch about. “Anyway, this sure looks like the place where nightmares are made.”

Shane hissed through his teeth and nodded. “Yeah, this place looks swell.”

“I just… I really don’t understand you sometimes,” Ryan sighed. Shane just laughed, causing Ryan to stare helplessly at him. “I mean… we’re gonna spend the night here, and you just find this house _swell_ even though you know people died in here. Okay.”

A sudden drop in temperature made Ryan freeze. The ghost was glaring at him. “You can’t stay here,” he hissed. “This place isn’t yours.” His voice was rough and wheezy, and when he spoke the trowel vibrated along with his voice. Fresh blood gushed forth with every syllable he spoke. Ryan couldn’t help but stare, suddenly finding himself unable to look away.

When Shane called him then, he sounded so much softer than usual that it almost startled Ryan. “Ry? You okay there, lil’ guy?” He shuffled closer and peered at Ryan’s face. “You’re having that weird glazed look in your eyes again.”

“We’re going to spend the night in a house that is haunted by ghosts who died horribly,” Ryan hissed, turning away from the ghost to look at Shane. He just hoped he didn’t seem too off. “Doesn’t that creep you out? Not the haunted bit, I know you don’t give a shit about that, but doesn’t the history of the house creep you out?”

“Well I mean,” Shane paused to think as he leaned to the wall. “History is just that, right? History. Fascinating as it is, that’s all it is. It can’t hurt you.”

Ryan’s eyes darted to the trowel ghost, who hovered behind Shane ominously. He dropped his gaze to the floor and breathed softly, “I wish that were true.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing,” Ryan straightened and schooled his expression into something that he hoped looked more calm than he actually felt. “Should we start now?”

“If you’re ready,” Shane shrugged, though it was clear from his gaze that even though he dropped the topic he would pay close attention to Ryan.

“Alright then,” Ryan took a deep breath. He waited until Shane stood comfortably by his side before speaking, “Hello, my name is Ryan and this guy right here is Shane. We just want to talk here. So… if there’s someone in here, make your presence known?”

They waited silently while Ryan ignored the trowel ghost. The ghost stared at him intently, empty-looking eyes looking almost offended that Ryan of all people would ask him to make his presence known.

“If you want to talk or something, you can do it now,” Shane offered. “Actually, just come here and rip – “

Ryan caught his gaze and shook his head, just a touch more desperate than usual. He probably looked a lot more scared than usual too, judging from the cold that had creeped up his ankle – the colder he felt, the harder it was to keep his face neutral. His toes already felt like ice.

Shane didn’t see it. “ – my arm off or something. Slam me to the ceiling, stab me in the heart. Do your worst; I’ll wait.” He brandished his arm out with a roll of his eyes.

Ryan mumbled a silent _please don’t please don’t please don’t_ to himself while his eyes darted left and right. The trowel ghost approached Shane, eyes narrowed. Ryan gulped, feeling more unnerved than ever. It was rare that a ghost would come up so closely to Shane and stayed there voluntarily.

The ghost reached out and grabbed Shane’s outreached arm, only to pass through. He stared at the spectral hand that went through Shane’s flesh and blinked before looking at Ryan, gaze hard. _Leave_ , the ghost mouthed. Ryan looked away.

“Oof, is it just me or did it just get a lot colder in here?” Shane asked as he withdrew his arm and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe a ghost just passed through you,” Ryan commented drily.

“Ha, maybe they’re trying to tell me to get out of their way,” Shane added with mirth. “Maybe they’re being really mad right now, all ‘Hey you! Get out!’” He gestured wildly, arms flailing and eyes bulging.

The sheer silliness Shane showed drew a laugh out of Ryan, though it couldn’t chase away the fear that had gripped him tightly. “Yeah, maybe they just want us out of the house,” he added though giggles. The trowel ghost nodded firmly, and Ryan clenched his jaw.

“Well, too bad for them,” Shane grinned, “we’re staying here all night.”

The trowel ghost growled lowly. Shane frowned, looked around, and shrugged. “Anyway. Should we start setting up the sleeping bags and whatever?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ryan nodded stiffly. The trowel ghost was glowering at him. It sent the fear charts he mentally kept track of shooting up to a whole new level. Chill creeped into his arms through the fabric of his shirt and jacket. He suppressed a shudder.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay with spending the night here?” Shane asked as they began cleaning the basement floor for their sleeping arrangement. “You bailed at Sally House. No one will mock you for bailing here. I mean, your mental health is more important and all that shit.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Ryan assured. He pointedly ignored the trowel ghost, who bared his teeth at him. “It’s just a night, right? We’ve spent the night at a lot of haunted places.”

“Yeah, but your face don’t usually look this white,” Shane pointed out. “Should we go upstairs so you can look yourself in the mirror? Because I’m telling you this; you look really pale right now.”

The thought of seeing himself so pale made Ryan think of himself as a ghost, and he shuddered involuntarily. “I’m good, thanks.”

“I’m just gonna say again, you’ve bailed before. No one will think less of you for bailing now, especially with how bad you look right now,” Shane pointed out before he went back to unfurling his sleeping bag.

Ryan thought back on Sally House. There were many reasons why he ended up admitting that he didn’t have it in him to stay there, and Shane was the biggest reason of all. To begin with, the house was definitely haunted as fuck. Even outside, the cold clung to Ryan’s skin like koala clinging on trees. There weren’t many entities in the house but what few were there were definitely the scary bunches. A spirit kept tailing the two of them, even after they got out of the house, and only left them alone when they reached their hotel. The basement was cold, even colder than this basement, and whatever entity was there definitely really wanted to eat Shane’s heart for sure. It followed them back up, though it didn’t follow them outside the house. The thing that kept flicking the flashlight on and off in the kitchen kept grinning hungrily at both Shane and Ryan, but mostly to Shane since he was the one who kept asking them to eat him. The last straw was the very same entity that followed them back up from the basement, which stared at them as they tried to sleep and had crept ever closer to Shane as three A.M came closer. The sight of it towering over Shane with its claws up and drool dripping off its exposed fangs was what finally drove Ryan to get out of the house. When he flipped off the whole house, he flipped out all of the entities that were there, watching them. Thinking back, Ryan was pretty sure that even though Shane drove away ghosts, demons actually flocked to him. Was it his questionable audacity that drew demons in?

Anyway, this house wasn’t nearly as bad as Sally House, but it was definitely up there in the list. At least this time there was only one ghost glaring at them. Even if the ghost in question looked about ready to throw a table on their heads.

“Just one night,” Ryan muttered softly as he snuggled into the sleeping bag, mostly to himself but eying the trowel ghost discreetly. “Not even a full eight hours. This is two A.M already anyway, we’re gonna leave sooner or later, it’s just one night…”

The trowel ghost floated closer to him, towering above him. Ryan paused and scooted closer to Shane, bringing their sleeping bags side by side and wriggled in his bag on his side until his back hit Shane’s shoulder. The cold dissipated immediately – not completely, but enough. “I don’t care what you’re saying, but I’m sleeping like this.”

Shane just chuckled as he took his phone and began scrolling the social media apps, making no move to get away. “Okay.”

The two spent the next hours tossing, turning, and trying to get some sleep, with Shane getting more success than Ryan. For Ryan personally, things were progressively getting worse. The trowel ghost wasn’t leaving and was just floating only a few feet away from the two living people in the room, staring at them with unreadable look in his eyes. The other ghosts that were in the basement had returned, also staring at them, though from much further away. Despite Shane’s presence, other spirits were gradually coming closer – the lady in pink was sitting on the top of the stairs, like she was expecting a show. Other spirits Ryan saw in other rooms stood in various places in the basement, though most gave Ryan and Shane a wide berth. All of them were staring at them.

Ryan squirmed and pressed his back closer to Shane’s through the sleeping bags. He was getting more and more nervous as time ticked by.

“Ryan? Why are you so close?” Shane asked quietly, voice slurred by drowsiness. “You weren’t this close just five minutes ago.”

“No, uh, sorry,” Ryan fumbled. “It’s just… the house is giving me the creeps.”

“You’ll be fine,” Shane assured. He shifted in his sleeping bag until he came face to face with Ryan. “We’ve slept in other haunted – “ even while trying to help Ryan calm down, Shane didn’t stop the eye roll “ – locations before. We’re still alive. You worry too much.”

“Dude, of course I worry,” Ryan hissed. “This house isn’t the sturdiest house around and you know that. Who’s to say the basement wouldn’t suddenly cave in?”

“Unless we get a really strong earthquake happening here, I doubt the house caving in would be a threat,” Shane argued.

Ryan paused. “Okay, fair point,” he conceded. “Still, we don’t know if things would happen. Old houses are scary that way.”

“That’s also a fair point, but honestly, as long as we’re careful nothing could harm us,” Shane argued.

Ryan’s gaze flicked to the ghosts surrounding them for a moment before he shook his head and turned to face Shane. Their face was a bit too close to be comfortable, but Ryan didn’t particularly care. “We don’t know. What if a ghost was around to harm you?”

Shane rolled his eyes powerfully. “Oh, sure, Ryan, maybe they can blow the curtains and push open unlocked doors. Come on, I’ve asked them to slam me to the wall and rip my head off. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” His eyes glinted with humor. “Unless if I’m actually dead and I haven’t realized it yet. That means you’ve been chatting with a ghost all this time.”

Ryan wheezed out a laugh. “Jesus Christ. Shut up, Shane.” His eyes widened as he grinned. “Hey, what if the demons in Sally House had actually eaten your heart?”

“Oh my god, I’ve been dead _that_ long?” Shane shook with laughter. “Maybe I’ve been leeching off your life energy to keep myself alive.”

 Ryan burst out laughing at that. He pushed himself to sit and began rummaging through his pockets. “Well damn, now I gotta banish you so I can keep living. I keep salt and dried sage in my pockets, where are those things – “

“You keep salt and sage in your pockets?” Shane curled to his side and _wheezed_. “What the fuck, Ryan?”

“You never know when you need to add more flavor to your food!” Ryan stopped rummaging to laugh along with Shane. He already knew the salt packets and small bottle of dried sage were in his bag instead of his pockets anyway.

“Can you even use sage if you don’t burn it? I thought people need to burn sage if you want to ward off ghouls.”

“I think there are ways to use herbs to ward off ghouls and different herbs have different effects, I’m just not sure how each herb need to be prepared – “

“Wait, wait, different herbs have different effects? Do you bring herbs everywhere you go?”

“Not _everywhere_! Depends on where I go to and what I think I should prepare for!”

“What, do you bring parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme around? Do you sing _Scarborough Fair_ while throwing herbs everywhere?”

A pause. “Actually… yeah. Not the singing part; the bringing herbs around part. Not those four together at the same time though. Again, it depends on where I go and what I think I should prepare for.”

“How do you even know all this shit about herbs?”

“Helen researched it for me a while ago, don’t shit on us like this!”

“Oh my god, no wonder your apartment always smells so nice. You burn herbs as some sort of anti-spirit aromatherapy…”

“Well I mean, they _do_ smell nice. It’s even nicer to know ghosts won’t fuck around with you if you burn the herbs.”

“Why were you so broken up about the holy water, then?”

“Because herbs can only do so much! Holy water is still better!”

“Would you spray it in every corner of any place we visit whenever we film Unsolved? Would you spray this basement?”

“I’m tempted to.” As soon as the confession left Ryan’s lips, he stiffened.

The atmosphere of the room had changed dramatically. If before the ghosts were watching the two living people huddling together in curiosity, this time it had shifted into something that made Ryan’s skin crawl. The scowl in trowel ghost’s face had doubled in intensity, which surprised Ryan, since he looked about ready to stab someone if he could before. The ghosts in the room murmured among themselves and stared at both Shane and Ryan warily. Even the friendly lady in pink had lost all of her previous friendliness and was currently looking at Ryan with a look he couldn’t place.

“I doubt I would actually spray anything, though,” Ryan added in an attempt to placate the ghosts. “For one thing, we’ll need a fuck ton of holy water. For another, it’s kind of rude to kick ghosts off their homes.”

“What if spraying them could send them to the afterlife?” Shane chased.

“Is that even how holy water work?” Ryan asked back with a frown, mentally cataloguing the ghosts’ gaze but doing nothing about it. “I don’t think simply spraying things can send them to the afterlife.”

“Hey, we’re all playing around with hypotheticals here. We probably won’t sleep a wink tonight. The least you can do is to humor me.” Shane rolled so he lay on his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows, propping his chin on his hands. He let his feet kick up inside the sleeping bag, making him look like some sort of weird finless mermaid. He wiggled his brows.

Ryan sighed. “Fine. If spraying them with holy water can help them find peace, then I guess I’d spray them.”

Ryan could feel the drastic temperature drop immediately. He stiffened and shrunk into himself as he looked around warily, immediately realizing how he had started to lose feelings in his fingers. The ghosts were staring at him in various shades of disbelief, surprise, hope, and even horror. The pink lady simply looked mildly interested in the development. The trowel ghost, however, looked downright murderous. He glided faster than Ryan thought any ghost could and stopped just inches from his nose.

“Leave,” the ghost rumbled.

“Leave,” another ghost echoed.

“Leave. Leave. Leave.” Slowly, the handful of ghosts in the basement chanted together, created a rumble of demand that bled together until Ryan couldn’t tell when it started and when it ended. He wanted to take the salt and sage in his bag, but it was far away, and he was kind of too scared to move right now. He hugged his knees and took a deep breath, counting one to ten in Japanese and already planning to count in Spanish if he needed to. _Ichi_ , ignore the ghosts, _ni_ , ignore the ghosts, _san_ , _ignore them ignore them nothing you can do about them_ –

Shane’s voice cut through the cacophony the ghosts created and his own loud thoughts and hammering heart. “Ryan? What’s wrong?”

“So, um,” Ryan squeaked, “about bailing – “

Ice stabbed at his heart, and he froze immediately, words catching in his throat. Something was wrong. He felt like he couldn’t move, his lungs refused to expand to let in air, cold like he had never experienced before washed over him and surged through his veins and froze his blood. He almost felt _light_ , somehow. He wasn’t sure why.

“Ryan?”

He blinked as he met Shane’s eyes, who had moved in front of him. The taller man cupped his face gently and examined his face, and Ryan let out a whimper. Usually, the warmth Shane exuded would have chased away the cold. This time it just confused his whole _being_ , like he wanted to be warm again but some part of him was permanently cold and he couldn’t decide between the two.

“You’re even paler than before,” Shane observed as he let go of Ryan’s face, worry infused in his voice. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t think so – “ Ryan wheezed painfully and his head drooped low. As soon as he saw the pale hand that had gone through his chest from behind, he let out a soft, “ _oh_.”

And then panic settled in. This had never happened before. He had always been able to touch ghosts, always been able to keep them at bay the same way he could keep living people away because he could smack them around. For a ghost to actually pass through him was a new development. Was it Shane’s presence here that changed that somehow? Was this ghost just that powerful? In any case, the ghost was sticking their hand through his chest, right through his heart, and Ryan didn’t think they would pull back anytime soon.

“If you don’t leave,” the ghost – Ryan distantly recognized the voice as the trowel ghost’s – whispered in his ear, “you might as well stay forever.”

Ryan’s eyes widened as panic flooded his system. He gasped in a breath and barely managed to utter a shrill, “Shane, help,” before the ghost plunged into him and his world exploded into crystalline white and blue and liquid nitrogen wrapped around him and infused itself into his blood, so cold that he felt everything burning. Was he screaming? He probably was.

A distant part of him thought, _This feels familiar_. He had felt this before, the burning cold that left him so vulnerable to everything around him, dead or otherwise. He knew this sensation, he’d felt it a long time ago – just before the bricks –

And then a pair of hands caught him by his shoulders, blazing hot, and the liquid nitrogen abruptly left his system. The blazing hot hands shook him, and it took everything Ryan had left in him to open his eyes – _when did he close them_ – and see through the blur of his vision. The familiar brown of Shane’s eyes greeted him. They looked kind of watery. Why were they watery?

His head drooped down as fatigue slammed into him suddenly. The trowel ghost had gone out of him, but the hand was still firmly lodged in his chest.

“Ryan,” Shane’s voice cut through the cotton stuffing his ears. “Ryan, do you hear me?”

“Shane?” he slurred, barely managing to say the name and ending up with something more like _shyuh_ instead. He didn’t particularly care. He felt numb all over, he was tired, he wanted to sleep.

“Okay, Ryan.” Shane hefted a sigh and gripped his shoulders tighter. “Okay. You’re obviously not fine, so I think we should drop the filming and get you to a hospital.”

The thought of walking around with a ghost hand stuck in his chest made Ryan nauseous. Could he even move with it in him? He shook his head at Shane, almost pleading.

“You need to go to hospital, Ryan,” Shane said firmly.

“No I don’t,” Ryan argued, even though his words slurred. The cold was wrapping itself around him again, subtler this time but no less dangerous. Spiritual fatigue was starting to choke him, and all Ryan wanted was for the ghostly hand to go away so he could sleep. Besides, if he went to hospital what could he even tell the doctor? A ghost had tried to possess him and that was why he had a weird case of hypothermia?

“Ryan, don’t argue with me about this.” Shane frowned at him disapprovingly.

“I don’t even know what to tell them.”

“That’s for them to figure out, Ryan! What do you think doctors do for life?”

Shane didn’t understand. Of course he didn’t understand. Ryan sighed and closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the spectral hand in his chest. Not for the first time, he wished Shane could see the things he saw.

There were times when he just wanted to climb the tallest building and screamed the truth so people would hear. Ghosts existed. Ghosts floated around them. They could hurt people (Ryan) just like people could hurt people, and they weren’t leaving. Ghosts had always been real; it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t prove it because the living couldn’t see them. But every time he thought of it, he was slammed down with tired helplessness. He knew he couldn’t make them believe, least of all Shane. He could try, of course, but would it work? Shane didn’t see the things he saw, didn’t hear the things he heard, didn’t feel the things he felt. Sometimes, he didn’t even think they breathed the same air. Still, if only…

Shane stilled, and Ryan struggled against the fatigue to look at him. Shane was staring right at his chest, eyes almost comically wide.

“Why is there a hand stuck to your chest.”

Ryan blinked at Shane’s question. “What?”

“There’s a hand in your chest,” Shane’s voice climbed in pitch, and he was starting to sound like that French fries character from his stupid hot dog story.

“You could see it?” Ryan asked in surprise. “Do you see… people in here?”

“What people – “ Shane looked around the basement, saw the ghosts, and startled. He finally let go of Ryan’s shoulders and blinked in confusion. With trembling hand, he reached to take Ryan’s hand in his. Then he let go. And then he grabbed it again. After a moment, he asked dully, “Why do I see see-through people when I’m in contact with you and don’t when I’m not?” He turned to look at Ryan fully and balked. “Why is there a man with trowel in his throat putting his hand through your chest?!” he demanded, scooting away and releasing Ryan’s hand.

Ryan managed a weak laugh. As soon as they ceased contact, he could feel the cold beginning to overtake him again. He wheezed in his attempt to breathe and smiled at Shane. “Would you believe me that I can see ghosts and that apparently a ghost sticking his hand in my chest somehow makes me able to make you see ghosts too?”

“No, that’s absurd,” the answer burst out with barely even a thought, and Ryan wondered why he even bothered asking. But then Shane paused and looked around, thinking. “There’s probably something in the house or something. Some mold that made me have hallucination, or some weird reaction that gives you weird hypothermia, or – or – “ he trailed off.

“I’ve been seeing them since – since the bricks, the one I told you about in that True Crime episode a while back,” Ryan began, “but I’ve always been able to feel them, and touch them. This… hand sticking in chest thing is new. People seeing them when touching me is new, too.”

“None of that makes sense,” Shane said without looking at Ryan.

“I know,” Ryan whispered. “But here we are anyways.”

The trowel ghost jerked against him, and Ryan stiffened again. The cold was spreading, much subtler and slower compared to the sensation of being drowned in liquid nitrogen earlier, but it was cold nonetheless. Ryan gasped in a breath. He was starting to feel numb all over again. “I would suggest you continue your conversation outside,” the trowel ghost growled to Ryan’s ear.

Ryan struggled to take a deep breath and spoke, “Take your hand out.”

It surprised Shane, clearly. “What do you mean, take my hand… oh. Is that ghost still sticking his hand in your chest?”

“Yes,” Ryan gasped. He couldn’t choose which was worse; the spreading cold or the breathlessness. He pawed around until he found Shane’s hand and desperately clung to it. “Make it stop.”

“Make… what stop?” the confusion in Shane’s voice was as thick as butter. Ryan could almost cut through it. He was tensing against Ryan’s hold, blazing warmth squirming in ice cold, and Ryan gripped harder.

“You make them go away,” Ryan wheezed. “You’re warm. You make the cold go away.”

“I don’t get what you’re talking about,” Shane said. There was a tone of desperation in his voice, like he was trying to help, trying to understand, but he just couldn’t. Ryan groaned and blindly pulled Shane’s hand to the offending spectral hand and pushed the warm hand against the cold.

The effect was immediate. The trowel ghost pulled his hand back so fast that the abrupt chance jarred Ryan’s chest. He heaved breath after breath, trying to _breathe_ , and kept gripping Shane’s hand like a lifeline. If he was any healthier he would have realized how weird this would look to any bystander, but spiritual exhaustion was a thing and he just didn’t care about that.

“You make them go away,” Ryan repeated to Shane.

Shane looked around, no doubt taking note of all the ghosts in the basement. The six ghosts that were there when they first went down – the trowel ghosts and the other five, most likely the ones who were buried alive under the cement – inched closer to them, a wary but angry look in their eyes. Shane squeezed Ryan’s hand and spoke, slowly but clear, “Leave us be.”

“Leave the house,” the trowel ghost demanded instead.

“We’re only going to stay here until morning,” Shane argued. “What’s so hard about sharing space for such little time?”

Six ghosts growled as one before they towered over the two living men, voice rumbling as they demanded once more, “ _Leave the house_.” Cold spread just as the words left their lips, and frost actually formed, little by little, climbing up and down the walls and wooden support beams. It wasn’t doing wonders to the numbness biting at Ryan’s fingertips.

Shane, undeterred, glared at them as he gritted his teeth. “Stay back!” he barked, tensing as he did, holding Ryan’s hand tight enough to hurt.

Ryan jerked, straightening up. There was something about Shane’s voice, a pulse of heat that immediately rippled around the room. It chased the cold immediately, and the numbness nibbling Ryan’s limbs quickly but gradually disappeared. The six construction worker ghosts disappeared in a blink – not gone, not completely, but they’d given Shane and Ryan space, at least. The pink lady by the stairs had been watching them this whole time, but the sudden ripple of heat had made her stare at them in surprise before she floated up the stairs and disappeared, possibly going back to her usual haunt.

“Are they… gone?” Shane asked, looking around.

“They’re still around,” Ryan answered. “Just not here.”

“Okay,” Shane breathed, finally relaxing after holding himself taut for so long. He pried his hand off Ryan’s and flexed it. Ryan braced for the usual cold to start creeping in once more, but for once in his life, the cold left him alone.

“How are you so sure they’re not here?” Shane asked quietly.

“I can sense them,” Ryan assured. “I’ve always been able to.”

Shane met his gaze. “Who knows?”

“I tried telling some people before, when I was a kid, but people mostly pass it off as me just playing pretend or the bricks incident messing with my head,” Ryan admitted. “Helen knows. It took some convincing, but she knows.” He glanced at Shane. “And now you.”

“And what a way to find out,” Shane sighed. He was quiet for a moment before asking, “Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“Would you have believed me?” Ryan asked back quietly.

Shane considered. “Probably not,” he admitted, “though you do know I want to be able to believe in something…”

“Other than science?” Ryan finished when Shane trailed off. At Shane’s nod, Ryan shrugged. “To be fair, it’s not like there’s any easy way to broach that topic with you. _Hi Shane, how’s your day going? By the way, I can see ghosts_.”

Shane chuckled. “I would have asked if you hit your head against a table.”

“You would, you ass,” Ryan wheezed.

“Wait, does this mean we’ll have to wrap up the show?” Shane asked. “We caught ghosts on camera, right?”

For a moment, excitement bloomed in Ryan’s chest before it deflated. He shook his head. “No, we can’t use the footage.”

“What? Why not?”

“For one thing, I doubt they actually caught any apparition, because what I see don’t’ usually show up in camera,” Ryan explained. “Besides, if it did, I don’t think people are going to believe… that.”

Shane blinked and nodded, mimicking Ryan’s dejected body language. “It’s too flashy, isn’t it? And I was too… cooperative. People would’ve thought we scripted the whole thing.”

“And rightfully so,” Ryan scoffed. “That had been too eventful. I feel like I could sleep for a week.” He paused and glanced around. “Just… maybe not here.”

“Understandable,” Shane nodded. “Let’s wrap these babies up and return to the hotel then.”

They spent the last few minutes rolling the sleeping bags and folding tripods, Ryan more sluggishly than Shane. The taller man had offered to do it for him, but Ryan refused.

“You know, you said I make them go away,” Shane piped up as he watched Ryan fold a small tripod. “Had I always been able to do that?”

“I don’t know, but you could do it already when I first met you,” Ryan said.

“Is that why you hang out with me?” Shane asked. There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“Partly,” Ryan admitted after a moment of silence. “I do like to hang out with you, though. I wouldn’t just hang around someone because they’re some sort of weird ghost repellant. I enjoy hanging out with you. We _do_ have weird sense of humor, so…”

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Shane snickered. He took one last look around the basement before standing up. “Alright, let’s go.”

Ryan saw the lady in pink as soon as they emerged from the basement. She was peering at them curiously, tilting her head as though trying to figure them out. Ryan ignored her mostly out of habit; Shane didn’t seem to realize she was there. Then she reached forward to poke Shane at the nape of his neck, and he jolted in surprise, rubbing the spot as he turned around.

“Did something touch me?” he asked to Ryan, still rubbing the spot as his eyes wandered around warily.

“A ghost did,” Ryan informed him. He flicked his gaze to the lady in pink, who held her hand that she used to poke Shane uncomfortable as she scooted back. She met his gaze as if asking _where the fuck did you find this man_ , shook her hand, and straightened.

“Okay, maybe tell them to keep to themselves,” Shane pointed out with a shudder before walking off. Ryan glanced at the lady in pink, who also shuddered before she forced a smile at him and waved, and vanished before Ryan’s eyes. Ryan smiled back, even though the ghost wasn’t around to see it, and quickened his pace to join Shane so they could get real sleep as soon as possible. He thought of how Shane could more easily sense the ghosts though he couldn’t see them, and wondered if his ability was contagious. He wondered if _Shane’s_ was.

Well, there was no use dwelling about it now, especially since he was sluggish and tired and sleep deprived like this. He doubted he could even think straight about it. They managed to film their usual we-slept-here-and-we’re-still-alive scene through a cloud of exhaustion, with Shane talking more than Ryan, and when it was done they shuffled out of the house as quick as they could.

As they walked away from the front door while enjoying the view of the slowly rising sun on the horizon, Shane spoke up, “Have you ever thought of bringing herb salt around instead of salt packets and different bottles of dried herbs?”

Ryan paused and considered. “No, but it’s an excellent idea.”

“Great. Should we go find the nearest convenience store?”

“Sure. Let’s get some popcorn while we’re at it.”

“Okay.” There was a lull in their conversation as they packed their things into the car, but as soon as Shane situated himself in the driver’s seat and Ryan in the passenger’s, Shane spoke again, “We’re going to the hospital first though.”

Ryan blinked and grimaced. “Okay, now that I don’t have a hand in my chest anymore I can see why that’s a good idea, but I’m still not sure what to tell them.”

“Just say we were staying in this apparently haunted place and you got super cold and we don’t know why, so it’s better to check just in case,” Shane shrugged. “I thought you’ve dealt with ghost thing all your life?”

“In my defense, my brain is being really slow right now,” Ryan said weakly, noting how weird it was to hear Shane admit that a place was haunted.

“Also, there’s this thing I’ve been thinking about,” Shane mused. “You said I’m… warm?”

Ryan nodded, and noted with fascination how a simple motion nearly sent him tumbling to the dashboard if it wasn’t for the seatbelt. He really needed rest. “Ghosts are cold. Just being around them makes me cold. It’s warm around you, though, and actually touching you kind of keeps the cold at bay.”

“Oh.” There was a pause before Shane tentatively asked, “Do you… need to hold my hand, now?”

Ryan wasn’t sure why, but the way Shane asked the question brought a smile to his face. “I think I’m fine now, thanks.”

“Okay then.” Shane fell silent as he made a turn, then said, “If you ever feel cold because of them again, you’re welcome to hold my hand anytime.”

Ryan blinked and looked at him, finding a ray of clarity in the sluggish fog of fatigue he was in, and let a smile bloom in his face. He was tired, he was still kind of cold, his fingers and toes were still chilly, but there was comfortable _warmth_ in his chest that had nothing to do with the temperature. “Thank you, Shane.”

Shane glanced at Ryan, smiled back, and returned his gaze to the road. “It’s no problem, Ry.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea why but i'm so fixated on psychic!ryan and shane being able to drive ghosts away by just being there (but inexplicably drawing demons to himself). also this almost ended up being a fic in which they were basically just cuddling all night, but then it meandered off and i have no idea how to get it back on track, so i scraped it off and wrote this instead.
> 
> also this ended up more touchy feely than i originally planned and i'm kinda worried it makes the characters kinda ooc but i've been editing this for hours and at this point i'm kind of resigned to my fate
> 
> come yell at me about bfu in my tumblr: [wheezebuddies](https://wheezebuddies.tumblr.com/)


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